


Time (and Time Again)

by Killbothtwins



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aliens, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Time Travel, elaborate heist, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 8,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5153564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killbothtwins/pseuds/Killbothtwins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers, due to a bit of a mishap (magic, of course, because when isn't it) end up in the 1940's. With a very confused Bucky Barnes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Natasha

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry guys, this story is completely finished. Just need to publish. Should come up about two times a week. 
> 
> Some things you need to know:  
> This is my first multi-chapter story, so please forgive things.  
> Each chapter is in a different Avengers' point of view. They're labeled with the name of the person for clarity.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Bruce, please? Science bros?”

“No, Tony.”

“Science broooooo”

 

The voices coming from Tony’s third and favorite lab weren’t exactly quiet, and Clint grinned playfully at Natasha before hoisting himself into the vents to investigate. She took the door, because she was a (semi) normal person. Okay, well, sort of normal. Whatever. 

 

The door hissed open, letting into the clean hallway the scent of oil, electricity, and the snacks Tony kept trying to feed Bruce.

 

“I agree with Banner.”

She told the two, walking in with no further introduction. She had no idea what they were currently talking about, but it was almost always a good bet that Bruce was right and Stark was wrong. 

 

Bruce beamed at her shyly while Tony scowled, and Clint hopped effortlessly out of the air system, showing off with a completely unnecessary flip. 

 

“Me too.”

He said. 

 

Tony ignored the sudden drop in, as did Bruce. They’d stopped being startled by sudden entrances about a month into all the Avengers moving in, about the time Steve skidded into the kitchen wearing nothing but his boxers and shield and being chased by Natasha and Clint.

 

“You don’t even know what we’re arguing about!”

Tony protested, a futile effort.

 

Natasha raised one single eyebrow. She’d been practicing that eyebrow; it seemed to be losing effectiveness on the Avengers for reasons unknown. Tony raised an eyebrow back, trying not to look cowed, but skirting the edge of the metal table to get further away.

 

“So what  are you arguing about?”   
Clint asked, probably playing dumb. He inspected a weird piece of metal, which Bruce gently took out of his hands and replaced with a rubber ball. He bounced it a few times off the wall.

 

“Dr. Foster sent us some new Asgardian tech they picked up on some study or another. We don’t know what it does yet, but it has a big button on it, which means we need to press it. Obviously. But Brucie insists ‘that’s dangerous, Tony, that could kill us all, Tony, gee whiz’. Like we don’t work with stuff like that every day.”

Tony said, being Tony and callous as ever.

 

Bruce glared, herding Clint off the chair he was perched atop of. 

“I don’t talk like that. And you know we aren’t allowed to test Asgardian tech when Thor, Selvig, or Foster aren’t around.”

He explained patiently, without any real hope that he’d be listened to. Thor was out of town (out of universe), and surprisingly, the large Norse man was about 90% of their impulse control.

 

“Can I see the button?”   
Clint asked, off the chair now and examining a screen, and Bruce facepalmed. Natasha sympathetically patted him on the shoulder. 

 

This time it was Tony that beamed, leading them proudly to a table, where a box was sitting. He showed it off like a gameshow, his arc reactor shining cheerily through his shirt as he thrust out his chest.

 

It was actually quite pretty, as was the style of the Asgards. Gold, ornately and intricately carved leaves snaked up the sides, wrapping themselves around a dark, magical-looking jewel in the center. It was clear that was the button Tony was so excited about, and Natasha did have to admit it was tempting her to press it down. 

 

She glared at Tony, because it was probably his fault, and something was probably going to go wrong, and that would probably be his fault, too.


	2. Tony

 

Tony pressed his nose to the glass encasing the box right next to Clint, whose nose print resembled an adorable bird. If Tony crossed his eyes, his looked like a weird, deformed cat. He ignored the burn of Natasha’s eyes on his back (mostly) and turned around to Bruce. 

 

“Pleeeease?”

He asked again, as if the time spent for Clint and Tony to look at the thing was enough for him to change his mind.   
  


“No.”

Bruce was grinning, though, in his not-smiling way that he got when he was trying to show disapproval for what Tony is doing when it was actually hilarious. Natasha raised her eyebrow again. It was terrifying.

 

“I still agree with Bruce.”

She said.

 

Bruce gave him a smug look.  Science bro, no.  His quiet, contained exterior held a heart of gold, a monster of green, and a little evil elf that loved puns and sarcasm.

 

“Stark, you down here? Fury wants a briefing on the robot dolphins-”

Steve, who was oblivious to the argument going on amongst his team members, asked, entering through the automatic doors with a little  swish.  Tony was proud of that swish. It sounded like  Star Trek.

 

Steve cut off whatever he was about to say when he saw the entire group in the lab, Bruce still with a handprint from where he had not-so-subtly facepalmed, Clint, who had perched atop a (thankfully not active) Tesla coil when he had been startled away from the case, and Natasha standing at a safe distance. Tony retracted the glass from around the box with a couple taps of his fingers on a display.. 

 

“Come on in, Stevie. We’re putting it to a vote. Who thinks we should press the big, dangerous button?”

Steve looked entirely unimpressed, folding his arms even though he didn’t even know what was going on.

“Absolutely not.”

He was using his Captain America voice.

 

Tony and Clint slumped, their excitement deflating.

“Maaan. I was kind of hoping we could blow something up.”

Tony said.

* * *

 

Everyone in the room, except for Black Widow, jumped when Tony’s cell phone rang. But the familiar, soothing, dulcet tones of AC DC's  Back in Black  didn’t sound quite right, Tony thought. The verses actually sounded sort of screechy. And sparky. And yeah, okay, his phone was on fire.

 

The other Avengers stared in unhidden confusion, watching him throw his phone across the room. It decided to spark some more, and apparently, the sparks were catching, because, halfway across the room, the mystery button glowed an eerie purple. 

  
  
  


They all stared at it wordlessly. 

 

It’s when the thing started to shoot out green sparks that the team of superheroes managed to spur themselves into action. Tony was muttering curse words like orders, trying not to watch as the stream of sparks got steadily more alarming. He hoped Steve wasn’t judging him on his language, which was somewhat of an inane thought during an actual, legitimate emergency.

 

Natasha vaulted over the table and to DUM-E, who was bleeping sadly, holding up the fire extinguisher, and spinning in a circle. Tony wasn’t actually sure what Natasha planned to do with the fire extinguisher, since the flames were clearly some sort of Asgardian thing, but he stayed clear in case she tried to hit  him  with it. 

 

Bruce pulled out his cell phone to call for backup, reconsidered, which was a probably a good idea considering the previous incident with Tony’s, and threw it out the door before it could do further damage. The lab was now filled with-  oh, joy \- smoke, but none of the sensors were going off. JARVIS was talking in the background, about latest schematics on an Iron Man suit. It was possible his sensors were a little messed up. To be honest, it would actually be hilarious to watch if they weren’t afraid they were going to die. 

 

Steve was the one who dove for the device and covered it in one of their fire-retardant blankets. 

 

The smoke cleared, and they all sat there, slightly singed, in shock. 

 

Natasha cleared her throat daintily, and Clint pretended he was examining his watch, although he obviously did not have one. Tony opened his mouth to speak. Of course, that was when everything went purple and started to tingle.

 

“I knew Banner was right.”

Natasha said, before everything faded out.


	3. Tony

Tony sat up with a start, coughing.

“Oh, gross, it smells like cigarettes.”

It was the first thing out of his mouth, purely instinctual and slightly dazed, and Clint threw a cigarette butt at his head, bouncing it off the wall.

 

Bruce and Natasha were also getting up, groaning and glaring intermediately, mostly directed towards Tony.

 

Tony glanced around, surveying the environment. It was a lot smokier than the lab they had just been in, which was saying something, and smelled a bit like fish, so, awesome. He shivered as a breeze passed by. Where did they end up?

 

“Where’s Cap?”  


Bruce asked suddenly, sitting up in a way that made him wince and made even Tony feel bad for him.

 

They all looked around, alarmed. The weird environment was forgotten in lieu of their teammate.

 

“I didn’t see him.”

 

Clint said, reaching for the small, collapsible compound bow that Tony had made him last Christmas. Natasha nodded her agreement, and they all wordlessly trooped out of the alleyway. Tony took yet another look around, noticing a few odd details.

 

First of all, unless they were in a really detailed reenactment, they were no longer in 2014.

 

It was practically a Captain America propaganda film, in which Steve had starred in several, looking awkward and obviously making faces at the other Commandos on the other side of the camera.

 

So, fun. Natasha was notably the only woman wearing jeans, although some did wear snappy looking pantsuits, and Tony suddenly felt lucky that he wasn’t in one of his more noticeable, expensive suits. He’d look like a gangster from a bad old movie. The people were all wearing slouched hats and there was a distinct feeling of not-quite-normal.

* * *

  
  


Clearly, they landed on the bad side of town, which is not a place Tony particularly enjoyed, being a rich boy from an even richer family. He could almost make out the Empire State building in the far distance, so they were probably near New York. Unless they ended up in some sort of alternate dimension or something-

 

A window sash opened, slowly, sounding like the person pulling it was having some difficulty. The Avengers tensed up even more immediately, whirling towards the threat.

 

Standing at the window was a blonde, 95 pound little guy, huffing from exertion. His old-timey suspenders were droopy and too old, and his hair wasn’t quite combed neatly enough.

 

“Tony.”  
Steve panted.

“I am going to kill you.”

 

* * *

  


Tony gaped up at the window, trying to comprehend the sheer unimpressiveness of Steve’s body. He had seen the museum exhibit, of course, where they told everyone in complete detail about poor little skinny Steve, but this was somehow unexpected.

 

Natasha looked either surprised or extremely amused, her usual stoic mask even slipping a bit. No one else moved either, and Clint seemed to be questioning whether he was having a stroke.

 

Steve, however, seemed to have retained his attitude as he rolled his eyes and huffed.

“Come in before anyone notices you, idiots!”


	4. Bruce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a little bit of an issue with dates (who can blame me, really, there's more time travel than "Heroes" in these comic books and there's not exactly a comprehensive timeline for these losers). The dates will be explained in this chapter, and I changed the summary to avoid any further confusion :)

Bruce tried not to stare; he really did. But the apartment was worse than some of the places he'd stayed in his whole “hide in third-world countries so the Hulk doesn’t destroy everything” tour. That’s saying something.

 

Everything smelled a little like smog and like smoke, and Bruce was pretty sure he saw one of those giant rats Tony had been breeding for his robot cat experiment (don’t ask). When Steve had finally closed the window to usher them all up, it had slid shut with a sort of groan, making them all wince.

* * *

 

Steve hustled them into his apartment, apologizing by name to a curious neighbor who stuck her head out the door to find out what was going on and got a Natasha-glare instead. The door shut behind them with an almost depressing squeak, and Bruce was just happy it didn’t fall off its hinges.

 

As soon as they were alone and mostly secure, everyone whirled on Tony. He chuckled nervously.

“Technically, we don’t know that this is my fault. It was the cell phone that got all...sparky and squeaky!”

 

Steve sighed, scrubbing a hand over his too-small face. He looked even smaller in the dim light of the Depression-era apartment, making Bruce wonder how he’d even survived before the serum.

 

“Can you explain, at least, how we got here?”

Natasha asked.

 

“And why I lost the serum?”

Steve added, looking miserable.

 

Bruce would like to know that too, actually, but felt pity on his fellow science bro (dammit, now he was doing it; Tony was going to be so proud) and offered up his best guess, polishing his reading glasses and stowing them in his pocket.

 

“Well, obviously, the box was capable of time travel. It probably reacted with the signals from the cell phone and booted up. But maybe the box… tried to prevent a paradox or something and placed you in your original body? Just a guess.”

 

Clint looked to be thinking hard. A small, mischievous grin played at his eyes.

‘I’m calling it the magical-explodey box. MEB for short.”

 

Natasha stared at him, then after a moment, whacked him on the shoulder.

 

“Right, so the… magical explodey box decided that, since we aren’t born yet, we wouldn’t like, cause the fabric of space and time to rip and leave all of time irreparably damaged and suck the universe as we know it into a black hole.”

Tony told them cheerfully, continuing with Bruce’s chain of thought.

“But Steve here already exists,”

Tony put a hand on the super-soldier's shoulder,

“sooo, he gets thrown back into the body that would make grown men cry, and here we are.”

 

Steve sighed, again, and pushed a stack of sketchbooks off of a chair and a couch so they had a space to sit.

 

Bruce fought the urge to thumb through them, remembering how much a Captain America sketchbook went for in his time. There was a line, even if Tony didn’t know it.

 

They sat down on the rickety couch that also probably doubled as a bed.

“So what year did the MEB send us to?”

Natasha asked calmly, ignoring Clint’s double fist-pump at the name catching on.

 

Steve looked around.

“Well, obviously, I still look like this,”

Steve gestured vaguely to the skin-and-bones body he was currently inhabiting (reinhabiting? weird), looking slightly embarrassed.

 

“So before 1943.”

 

Clint cut into the conversation, although he hadn’t looked to be paying attention, perched dangerously close the edge of the head of the couch.

“And after ‘29, ‘cause there was the Empire State building.”

 

Bruce thought.

“So there’s about a 7 year margin, because you’re obviously over preteen years.”

Steve nodded, not even trying to work out the math. Bruce didn’t blame him. This whole thing was way too confusing as it was.

“We can work with that. Now, how do we get home?”


	5. Bucky

Bucky barely avoided tripping over the creaky fourth floor step, his boots barely clearing the landing. He sighed, and ignored Ms. Florence’s angry titters at him, and stopped just outside his and Steve’s apartment.

 

He hated it when his friend was sick, but not more than Steve himself did. If he knew him, he would be sulking quietly by the window, drawing the people outside in too-dull charcoal or trying to sneak out to help an old lady with her groceries.

 

He moved towards the door, but paused again. He heard...voices?

* * *

 

“No, Tony, please, I really don’t think that we can get ahold of nuclear energy- Bruce, I promise I am not going to drop dead any minute, please stop examining me-”

“Hey, I think we should try to find the magical-explodey thing and then call Thor-”

“Great idea, Clint, why didn’t we think of that? Now I just need some high grade plutonium or possibly gold and we can track the thing-”

“BRUCE! Stop hovering over Steve. I will stab you.”  


Those were voices. And they were all talking one over another, like a group of grumpy children. Bucky stepped into his apartment, sighing. Why did he ever have to make friends with someone like Steve? Because Bucky was a sucker, that’s why.

* * *

The moment his foot crossed the threshold, in an uncharacteristic display of vigilance, Steve (and the three strangers in the room with him) froze and turned to him.

 

Almost immediately, the three strangers went into what was almost a defensive pose, before Steve elbowed them, one after another and not very softly.

They all, including Steve,  looked very pointedly and very unsubtly at his left arm, which was dirty and maybe a little scratched up from working all day but otherwise normal. He shifted his arm a little bit, uncomfortably, and the strangers relaxed.

 

Why did no one believe him when he said it was Steve who always got him into these things?


	6. Steve

“Uh.”

Tony said, smiling awkwardly as if he had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. Steve nudged him again and resumed staring at Bucky. Sure, this Bucky wasn’t going to try to throw him out of a helicarrier or you know, inadvertently expose a Nazi conspiracy infecting the entire government, but still. Weird.

 

Bucky sighed, the sigh of a man who has dealt with Steve Rogers on a daily basis. He ignored Tony, who was muttering about DeLoreans, and the rest of them, and walked over to Steve, who was still slightly stunned.

 

“Do you still have that fever, punk?”

Bucky asked him, reaching a hand up for his forehead. Steve paused for a moment, then did the first thing that came to his mind. It was like a natural instinct.

 

He licked Bucky’s hand.

“Nope, jerk.”

He said, cheerfully, and Bucky groaned and wiped his hand overdramatically on Steve’s shirt.

  
  


Tony sputtered behind them, surprised, and Bucky massaged his temples, hand no longer damp.

“I thought I told you not to bring in any more strays, Rogers.”

Clint choked out a laugh, then pretended to be looking with great interest at the table, which has more cracks in it than Steve would care to count. 

 

“They’re not strays, Buck. And besides, when have I done it before? That cat was cold! I was only going to bring it in for a day.”


	7. Clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since these two chapters were so short, I figured I'd do both at once!

Clint smirked as Steve and Barnes bantered back and forth, relishing the surprise on Tony’s face and trying to hide the fact that he was feeling some of his own. 

Tony signaled to him, Tasha, and Bruce and they tried to sneak out the door.

* * *

“So you’re saying that a  normal  person would adopt a bird they found on the side of the road-”

Bucky was arguing as they reached the door. He cut off as he noticed their attempt at a quick escape. 

“Nope, not-strays, you’re staying right there.”

They froze mid-step, Tony with one foot still in the air and Clint with his hand half on the doorknob.

 

“If Steve brought some strays home,”

He said, shaking a not-metal hand at them, then at the slightly smirking Steve. 

“There’s gotta be a reason.”

* * *

  
Steve grinned at him, carefree and boyish.


	8. Bruce

“Right, and so, after we took care of the rabid racoon and washed off all of the glitter and, you know, fur, we realized that we were lost.”   
Tony finally finished his story with a breath that he hadn’t taken the whole time. Bucky stared at him, mouth slightly open, while Steve rubbed his forehead and Natasha did the closest thing to a smirk her face could approximate.

 

It was one of the more ridiculous stories Bruce has ever heard literally in his life. It was amazing. Tony had thought on his feet, admittedly not well, and seemed to become enraptured with his own made up cover story as it got wilder and wilder.

 

Bucky simply stared at him dully.

 

“Fine, Steve. Just get them back to their…”   
He paused, eyeing them and pondering the story a little deeper. 

“Traveling group of blind circus performers and American flag makers?”   
Tony nodded proudly, and even little Steve hid a small smile in his sleeve.

 

“Yep. Be back before dark!”

Steve said, deadpan as if nothing strange had happened at all, grabbing Bruce’s wrist in one hand (with a disappointingly weak grip) and Clint’s jacket in the other. Natasha and Tony trailed after them.

* * *

They practically fled out the door and down the stairs, until Clint finally did something (Bruce couldn't actually tell what) that freed both him and Bruce from Steve’s grip in the blink of an eye.

 

He grinned at them, darting back to Natasha’s side before any of them could say anything. Tony sighed, and Steve pulled them down an alley and away from the sight of passers-by on the street. 

 

“Hey, I got beat up in this alley!”

He told them, his scrawny face lighting up in remembrance before he remembered what he was remembering and rubbed his neck awkwardly.

 

Clint patted his shoulder sympathetically and turned to Tony and Bruce. Tony stopped prodding what was possibly a mound of old Nutella mixed with garbage to straighten up and feign seriousness. 

* * *

“Bruce? Tony? Any ideas?”

Clint asked.

Tony opened his mouth to speak, grinning with an evil smirk.

“-preferably Bruce?”

Clint changed his mind, looking at the sometimes monster, always scientist.

  
  


Tony pouted playfully, and Bruce nudged him until the billionaire's face turned serious again. Bruce smiled at Clint, who preened in an eerily reminiscent reminder of his bird-related namesake.

 

He tapped his hand against the concrete wall absently, nervously.

“The only thing I can think of is to find the…”

Bruce glanced at Clint again, hesitant.

“...MEB and try to get it to send us back.”

 

“So there’s no guarantee that even if we do find it, somehow, in the middle of 1930’s New York, that it will actually get us back home.”

Natasha observed coolly, neither her facial expressions nor her tone changing, simply stating a fact. Bruce shrugged uncomfortably. That was why he let Tony be the one who dealt with people while he scienced, mostly.

 

“Awesome!”

Tony said.

 

“Awesome.”   
Steve repeated flatly. 

“And where would something that potentially dangerous end up where we come from?”

Steve asked, crossing his arms. He had already reached a conclusion.

 

Tony looked offended.

 

“Obviously it would end up with me, well, me or SHIELD, but probably me because I’m the best equipped-”

Tony closed his mouth abruptly, opened it, and closed it again.

 

“Stark Industries?”

Clint guessed, judging by the look on his face.

Tony’s face fell further into a scowl. 


	9. Bucky

Bucky tilted his head in confusion. Whatever stupid thing Steve was doing now (and trust him, he knew it was stupid because Steve was involved in it), seemed even stupider than usual. 

 

And he hadn’t invited Bucky.

 

He couldn’t understand half the words they were saying, and not just because he was hiding on a rooftop a couple buildings over. So he had followed Steve and his strays, sue him. For a couple of moments, he had thought the strangely dressed dame or the grumpy looking one had noticed him, but Bucky wasn’t the go-to sneak in Brooklyn for nothing. 

 

Bucky tuned back into the conversation (they had been arguing about something called doctor who) to watch them seem to make a decision.

 

In Bucky’s experience, bigger, smarter guys and Steve never seemed to mix well. But even though this group was all of the above (and then some; the blond guy looked like he could take down three of the biggest gangs in Brooklyn without blinking. And the dame...well, Bucky didn’t want to think about what that one could probably do given a fork or some other blunt instrument.)

 

The point to this, though, was that Steve hadn’t tried to pick a fight with any of them yet. Given Steve, Bucky was pretty sure this was a new record. The group trooped out of the alley, following closely behind Steve. If it wasn’t damn hilarious to think about, Bucky would swear that they were waiting for his orders.


	10. Steve

Tony stopped as they rounded a corner a few blocks away from Brooklyn that Steve had never seen before. He never had the need to venture into  that  part of town, the part of town where people like Howard Stark bought office buildings. The genius screwed up his face into a pout, trying to mentally convince Bruce to argue on his behalf that it was a terrible idea to go to the Stark Industries office. If he got the telepathic message, he was ignoring it.

 

They all stopped and stared at the building, all brick and businessmen and miles away from being anything similar to Tony’s modernized offices in the future. They ducked into the area behind a store, this time, and waited for three guys with cigarettes to clear out before huddling together.

 

Steve determined the best course of action, drawing out a uncomplicated battle plan on an old foreclosure notice Clint had dredged up from his pockets. Natasha occasionally made suggestions, or Tony would point out a point of security his dad had taught to him and would likely still be in place. It was a routine they were comfortable with, and Steve had no problem with his team making suggestions.

  
  


That is, until they told him he should sit this one out. 

 

“ What?!”

He asked, accidentally bringing out his ‘Captain voice’, even in a much smaller body. Actually, the small body was the problem, apparently. 

  
  


They had all unspokenly chosen Bruce to tell him this fact, mostly because he was probably the only one besides Natasha that he wouldn’t hit.

“Cap, it’s just that we don’t want to have to be watching out for you the whole time.”

 

He told him, looking like he would rather be anywhere but there. Steve turned his glare on him so fast that no one would be surprised if his neck had popped a little bit.

 

“You weigh  95 pounds, dude. ”

Tony told him, and Steve folded his arms.

 

“So? I survived twenty years weighing 95 pounds,  and  I’m the only one who knows this time.”

He glared. Tony glared back. Clint poked a cockroach, looking disinterested in infighting.

 

Natasha ended the debate, swooping in and declaring Steve lookout.

“Just in case.”

She said, daring any of them to argue with her (or one of the seventy-three knives stashed on her person). 

 

Steve glared, but allowed his team to start the mission.


	11. Tony

It was dangerous, having so many people connected to Howard Stark near said man before they’d ever even met. Tony didn’t want to end up Marty Mc’Flying his way out of existence, and who knew where the world would be today without Captain America.

 

Tony was slightly glad that they had all decided anyone who had met Howard before were automatically out of going near him. And he wasn't glad because it meant he wouldn't have to face his dad again.

 

No. He was worried about the time-space continuum.

 

Sure.

* * *

Tony slipped in through the front doors with relative ease, not needing to worry about security cameras or metal detectors.

 

He made his way into the science sections, relying on vague childhood memories to take him through without incident.

From memory, Tony punched in a code to a lab, letting the door open with a click, much less impressively than Tony’s lab doors. He smiled to himself, then scowled as he remembered where he was.

 

He ducked past three more security passpoints from there, making his way to the first lab assistant he found in the inner core of the first floor of labs. He already looked harried and distracted. Perfect.

 

With a small trip, Tony managed to snag the higher security badge off of the man’s waist, apologizing profusely before darting away.

 

The MEB wouldn’t be in this section of the lab, not so close to people who could spy on the amazing technology..

But, Tony now had an all access-key to the rest of his father’s labs. He grinned, twisting the badge around in his fingers.

 

He headed towards the rendezvous point with Bruce, a less restricted area, rounding a corner and coming face-to face with a very familiar sight.

* * *

 

Inwardly, he cursed every single curse he knew. Outwardly, he took a little stroll down the hallway, whistling.

 

Tony’s father didn’t look to be in a hurry today, which was not great for the home team.

 

Tony tried to slip past his dad (not touching him, obviously, paradoxes were a thing), when Howard turned around, looking puzzled.

 

“Do I know you, mister? You look awfully familiar.”  
Howard commented, his brow furrowed.  

 

Tony almost tripped again, this time for real. “Uh, no, man, I mean, sir, I’m just a new guy here never seen you before goodbye!”

Tony managed to get out, then gracefully managed to leave the hallway, practically sprinting, only running into a few people along the way.

* * *

He passed Bruce near the hallway, slightly out of breath.

“Here you go, Science Bro.”

He told him, shoving the ID card into his hand.

 

Bruce looked at him suspiciously.

“Are you okay, Tony?”  
He asked, fingers closing around the card somewhat hesitantly.

 

“Yeah, yeah, fine. Just had a run in with my dad. It was a whole...thing. Now go, ‘cause I think Rogers is gonna have a conniption sitting this one out without comms.”

 

Bruce finally started off down the hall, came back, patted Tony’s shoulder in reassurance, and left. Tony let himself relax. Science bro, yes.


	12. Bruce

Bruce took off down the hallway, trusting that Tony knew what he was talking about and grateful that he hadn’t had to steal the badge. It wasn’t surprising that, as a giant green rage monster, he wasn’t all that great at stealth. 

 

He sighed, wishing he’d taken up a safer profession (bomb defuser, or he could have been a teacher). 

 

All he needed to do was show the access card to the guard at the door, and without an identifying picture, he was in the clear. Crime must have been far easier in the 1930’s. 

* * *

Bruce took a cursory glance around the lab, taking in the details like he might a particularly interesting museum exhibit. 

 

He wasn’t looking for the MEB at the moment, but rather a prototype containment lead-lined box that should hopefully mask the MEB from any sensors or aftereffects of time travel. Squinting at Tony’s how-to note, Bruce went to the innocuous-looking safe on the wall and solved the puzzle hidden inside. 

 

With a click, the door opened, revealing the lead-lined box, which looked like a regular delivery package. Bruce looked at Tony’s note. “STEP 5:” It said in Tony’s chicken-scratch writing, “High five-yourself. You are awesome.” 

 

He sighed, and then allowed himself a small grin. 

* * *

Bruce left, package in hand, and trying not to stare at the man smoking--inside, he hadn’t seen that for years-- an actual cigar.

 

He got into the elevator, trying to forget about large green monsters in small, death-trappy places.

 

Natasha materialized next to him, not creepy at all.

 

He handed her the small box with a sigh, not bothering to ask where she came from, and when he turned around again at the lobby, she was already gone. 


	13. Natasha

Natasha pulled herself easily onto the next level, scoffing a little at their petty security. She hadn’t bothered to change out of her jeans or hoodie (because she was not doing that), and got a few stares, but no one was brave enough to look for long.

 

The lead box, if she was to understand right, should cloak the fact that she was stealing a highly dangerous, probably magical object. Steve had hoped that by assigning different jobs to all of them, they could avoid being recognized long enough to pass on going to 1930’s jail.

 

One man tried to stop her. One.

 

Natasha turned the box over in her hand, sure not to let the MEB inside tumble to the floor, lest it send some poor Tom back to the Paleolithic ages.

 

Leaning against a wall, Natasha whistled a Russian tune, an old one she was sure Clint would recognize.

 

A hand popped out of an air vent, scaring a secretary to death but getting no reaction from Natasha.

 

She handed Clint the package, smiling innocently at the receptionist when she asked _if she had seen that, what was that._

 

She could hear Clint’s half-muffled sneezes as she made her way down the lobby to rendezvous with Tony.

  
  


 

Natasha took Tony’s arm, escorting him towards the front door, smiling innocently at the doorman.

  
They were halfway out the door and joined by Bruce when a voice suddenly called out to them. Natasha froze, putting her dagger into the palm of her hand smoothly.


	14. Tony

Tony would never admit that he squeaked a little bit when the doorman called out to them, hand seriously on his gun like some terrible private detective from that awful show Pepper made him watch, and he was going to be killed by some rent-a-cop in a stupid Stark building before he was even born.

He could feel Natasha tensing up to kill what will probably be  _ copious amounts of people _ , which was also not okay, and he could see Bruce go a little green. He started to have a quiet little freak out when he heard wheezing across the room. 

Really, really loud wheezing.

Tony turned, along with everyone else, to the source of the horrible dying possum noise. It was Steve.

The kid was doubled over, coughing so hard Tony was surprised he didn’t break a rib. The billionaire started forward, then caught a look by Cap that said  _ what are you doing, idiots? go,  _ and took Natasha’s arm again and slipped past the first round of security. He glanced back as Natasha got them through the next layer.

 

Steve was on the ground now, somehow. Bucky Barnes materialized next to him, irritation leaking through a concerned mask.

The people around had been starting to lose interest, but Bucky’s entrance had drawn their attention in again, their eyes riveted to the pair like a tragic circus act.

Steve coughed, making a choking noise like Darth Vader had suddenly invaded his soul.

Bucky kneeled down next to him.

 

“I see the light, Buck.”

Steve said, pushing an arm in a random direction dramatically.

 

“No! Don’t go towards it!”

Bucky wailed, a hint of mischief in his clenched jaw, shaking his friend’s tiny shoulders and making an excessively worried noise. The crowd watched on, fascinated.

 

“Tell Eliza I loved her.”

Steve coughed dramatically, flopping his head around and making his own eyes water.

 

“You’ll tell her yourself, dammit!”

  
  


Tony almost ran into the door as Natasha pulled him out the final exit and away from the Steve and Bucky show. He gaped, watching Steve gasp something nonsensical about seeing flowers.

  
  


As he saw his team in the clear, Steve cut off mid-cough, sitting up.

“Wow, I feel much better!”

He said.

 

Bucky overdramatically sighed in relief, then dragged his friend through the door, to the sounds of applause and cheers from the employees inside.

* * *

Tony’s mouth fell open as he watched Steve dust himself off, a safe distance away in another alley.

 

“How did you know he was faking it?”

Tony asked, staring at Barnes, who was decidedly not an evil Russian assassin and was also decidedly pissed. 

 

“You are an idiot.”

He said, ignoring Tony’s question but also sort of answering it at the same time.

 

“How often did this happen? This is something I need to know.”

Tony said, ignored again.

“This is very important to me.”

 

“It’s really not as bad as it looks, Buck, I swear-”

Steve was saying, trying out the puppy eyes that usually made Sam smack him upside the head and then do what he wanted anyway.

Clint chose that moment to drop down from the rooftop above.

 

“Nice one, Rogers, that was awesome! I stole the MEB, completely successfully and with minimum harm to myself, if anyone was wondering. You know, for me that’s an accomplishment, you can ask Kate, one time I injured myself trying to go shopping for dog food-”

 

Clint finally noticed Bucky standing there, and attempted to hide the rather obvious, rather large and obviously stolen box now halfway out of the mailer’s package behind his back.

“It’s not what it looks like?”

  
  


Bruce took the MEB gently from Clint’s grasp, examining the box it had been smuggled out in and mostly ignoring Bucky,. Steve, however, was not quite so lucky.

 

“No, see, the box was ours-  _ theirs-  _ to begin with. We were just getting it back, see? Buck, common,  _ ow. _ ”


	15. Steve

While Steve was getting slapped in the back of the head repeatedly, as if it would somehow force the stupid from his head, Bruce and Tony examined the box, as soon as Tony could be torn away from the soap-opera dramatics.

 

Now that there wasn't much worse that could happen with the box, the two scientists were free to examine it much more visually than they had previously.

 

With Asgard tech, you never knew whether touching it would turn you purple, into a girl, or a small feline, and scanning it could be equally disastrous. Things often reacted badly, and they were probably going to have to institute a no cell phone policy when they were playing with Asgard tech. Bruce carefully checked to make sure that there didn’t happen to be a convenient manual stamped in English on the bottom, telling them how to get home.

 

There was no manual.

* * *

 

Steve could tell Bucky was getting more and more pissed off as the argument continued, mostly upset about Steve’s apparent criminal tendencies (although Steve had picked a fair amount of pockets and stolen a fair amount of candy from the angry old shopkeeper in his time, and they both knew it).

 

He could also tell his team was getting impatient for the show to wrap up, especially Natasha. She liked Bucky well enough, but what she did not like was anyone getting in the way of her mission. It probably didn’t help that the Red Room was around, right now, waiting to take in a little Natasha Romanova.

 

“We were just getting back property, Bucky, come on. It’s not illegal or anything-”

 

Natasha interrupted, folding her arms over her t-shirt as Bucky stared at her, apparently now noting her strange dress.

 

“Rogers, we do not have time for this. I, for one, would like to leave, and unless we want SHIELD crashing down on Avenger’s tower, we better do it quickly, too.”

 

She raised an eyebrow, daring Bucky to argue with her. That eyebrow had taken down dictators.

  
  


Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair and making it stand up before nodding resolutely.

“Okay, Nat, I agree. Right, now, Bruce, Tony, have you figured out how that thing works?”

 

He mostly ignored Bucky, earning him a _look_ from Bucky as the other Avengers followed suit, waiting for Steve to give orders _._ Steve shrugged apologetically to Bucky, slipping into his Captain persona.

 

“Yeah, Cap, far as I can tell-”

 

Bucky folded his arms again, whipping his head to glare at Steve.

“ _Cap._ ”

 

Tony glared, finishing his sentence.

“ _Far as I can tell,_ just pressing the button on the MEB isn’t going to cut it. We might end up in 2014, we could end up running from Skynet; we just don’t know.”

 

Steve nodded, his face as serious as it usually was when directing troops, although he sensed it might not be so out of place on his younger, smaller body, either.

 

“So what do we need to do, short of summoning Thor here to help out? I don’t think that’s possible at this point.”

 

“The Other Guy doesn’t like the magical explodey box much,”

Bruce said, looking faintly apologetic,

“But he seems to think that we should get rid of it in the same place we were in when everything went,”

He waved his hands,

“purple.”

 

Clint nodded.

“Like a scent thing? Some of the energy from our little trip got left behind when we jumped, and now we need to reunite the remaining energies to go back?”

 

He coughed, noticing the grin on Tony’s face and the knowing look on Natasha’s.

“Just a theory?”

 

“Ah, nice try, Barton, but we all know you’re not just a dumb hick. Maybe like, 12 percent dumb hick.”

“ _Thanks,_ Stark.”

“No problem.”

  


Steve stifled a chuckle of his own before he remembered the very angry, dark-haired problem tapping his foot next to him.

 

“ _Stark?”_

Bucky asked, his voice increasingly calm, which was not a good sign.

 

“ _A_ _s in_ Howard Stark, who you just _robbed?_ ”

Steve coughed.

  
“...no?”


	16. Bucky

“You want me to believe that you stumbled across a couple’a time travelers while you was just  _ mindin’  _ your business, like the good citizen you are.”

 

Now the explanations were over, Bucky really wished that  _ someone  _ in this group of weirdos would at least crack a smile, tell him nah, they were actors from Europe or something, but they all stayed still, watching him with alert eyes that reminded Bucky a little too much of soldiers back from shore leave.

 

He guessed this whole mess was Steve’s fault. 

 

The woman looked particularly unimpressed with Bucky’s inability to grasp this concept, while her boyfriend looked hungry, mostly. 

“Yes. Now we have to move.”

 

She stalked off in the opposite direction, not allowing Bucky a second thought. 

 

The others followed good-naturedly, even Steve. 

 

The one that “Barton” had called a Stark stayed back with Bucky, watching Steve bicker with Barton. 

“ _ Cap.” _

Bucky repeated, glaring at Stark with the glare he reserved for punks like Steve and idiots who beat Steve up in an alleyway ‘cause he didn’t like the way they were talking to their girlfriend.

 

The man held up his hands. 

“Woah, so apparently it wasn’t the Russians that made you scary.”

 

“ _ What. _ ”

 

Stark huffed out a laugh.

 

“Tony.”

He didn’t bother to hold out a hand, but continued walking. 

 

“James.”

Bucky said back, out of habit, even though he wasn't sure why. Tony smirked a little, watching Steve up ahead.

“I thought you were called Bucky.”   
  


“Not to anyone who wants to keep their bones where they are in their body.”

 

Stark gave him a knowing look and kept walking. 

  
  
  
  


“So what’s SHIELD?”   
Bucky asked, walking backwards.

 

“Pain in my butt, is what they are.”

Tony grumbled, rolling his eyes quite impressively. He’d obviously had practice.

 

“I swear, if they break anything in my tower while I’m away I’m going to hunt each and every one of them down and-”

Tony chuckled awkwardly, remembering Bucky was there. 

“I mean, nothing?”


	17. Steve

“Naaaattttt.”

“Barton, I will stab you in the face.”

“Naaaatttt.”

 

Steve finally turned around, intervening like a soccer mom on a road trip. 

“Clint, we’ve been on the ground for half an hour. You’ll survive, little bird.”

 

Clint made the most pained look he could muster up, trying his best to look like a kicked puppy. Natasha looked supremely judgmental and not at all swayed. 

 

“Pleeeease, Cap?”

He asked. Tony, who had been hanging back with Barnes, was now engaged in the conversation. 

 

Tony grinned at Steve.

“Well we are pretty close to where Stark Towers will be in the future and we could use an arial lookout…”

He trailed off, grinning and ignoring Barnes for the most part, who looked exasperated again. Steve sighed, although there was no heat behind it. They all knew Clint couldn’t stay street-bound for long. 

 

“Fine, Barton. You better be back with us before we use the MEB, though. We’ll leave you behind, Clint.”

He relented, and Clint held out a hand for him to high-five.

 

“Awesome! Thanks, Cap.”

And within a blink, Clint was gone.

* * *

Steve shook his head fondly as his teammate clambered up and away from them and onto the rooftops. 

 

Natasha didn’t look after him, but Steve knew she knew exactly where he was anyway. 

* * *

“How much longer?”   
Steve asked a while later. His sense of direction was all turned around, from being distracted by Bucky, by recognizing one of the places the Commandos had visited on leave, by the fact that he was  _ in the past which should not have been the past.  _

 

Bruce looked around, probably overlaying what he knew of the future with what he was seeing. 

“The Starks owned the property where Stark Tower was built for a long time. It  _ should  _ be...just up here.”

 

The group stopped, staring at the empty lot that would someday be their home. 

 

Actually, though, it wasn’t quite empty. At all.

 

Or, as Clint put it as he dropped neatly beside them, 

“That’s a buttload of Chitauri.”


	18. Natasha

Bucky just gaped at the flashily-dressed aliens. 

 

Meanwhile, the Avengers sort of stared dejectedly at them.

 

“Why are they here?”   
Clint asked, staring at them.

 

“It’s not Loki, is it?”   
Steve added, rubbing his face.

 

“Steve. What. Are. Those.”

 

“Aliens?”   
Clint hazarded, glaring at a Chitauri like he wanted to stab it through the head with an arrow. 

 

“I hate Chitauri.”   
Tony grumbled. 

 

“Aliens.”   
Bucky repeated, doing his best to bore a hole through Steve’s scrawny face with his eyes. 

 

“I really hope it’s not Loki.”   
Steve reiterated.

* * *

Natasha was annoyed. 

 

Barnes, although pleasant enough in the future (although after being a brainwashed almost-Nazi, shooting one of her best friends, and becoming an assassin, she’s not sure what this says about her ideas of pleasant), is annoying as hell in the past. 

  
  


Not the whole overprotective thing. She was pretty sure that Bucky of any time would wrap Steve in bubble wrap if he could. 

 

No, the whole…  _ asking questions.  _ It was annoying. 

 

Clint, being the also annoying menace that he was, must have noticed Natasha’s mood and took a step back. She almost smiled. 

 

“What is our weaponry situation like?”   
She asked, ignoring Tony’s excited  _ The Truth is Out There  _ speech to Bucky and the subsequent smacks to the head that Steve was receiving. 

 

Really, someone had to be the adult here. 

 

She thought it was kind of sad that the winner of that was still Steve, even though he weighed less than a hawk Natasha had once trained to peck people’s eyes out. 

 

She still has a picture of her, Clint, and Vladimir McStabby pants.

 

Good times. 

 

“Steve. Leave Barnes alone. I have an episode of Downton Abbey tonight that I want to get back to. Shut up Stark. Now, are we going to do this?”   
  


Tony opened his mouth, closed it, Barnes gaped, and Clint grinned. Natasha smirked. 

 

Steve grinned. 

“I think I have an idea.”


	19. Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter left after this one! This story was fun, and thanks to all that reviewed it.

Sometimes, like, say, now, for example, Tony really wished he wasn’t trapped in the 1930’s.

 

Sue him, he preferred it when he was in good ‘ol uncomplicated 2016, where there were  _ normal  _ things, like his AI and the unbreakable Wii remote he was building for Thor and Steve and there were costumed menaces besides Captain “bootyshorts” America around.

 

He preferred 2016, where he had his suit and no Chitauri that wanted to kill him. Well, at the moment.

 

He sighed as Natasha tossed him a Chitauri scepter, shooting three at a time.

 

“I miss my suit.”   
He whined aloud. 

 

Bucky stared at him for less than a second, then ducked as Steve hurled a trashcan lid and hit a Chitauri that had been sneaking up on Clint. 

 

The archer grinned, then resumed position.

 

He’d had nothing more than a small, experimental bow with him and only a few arrows, but he seemed to be adapting quite well to the alien scepters, laughing maniacally as he shot out aliens from his perch. 

  
  


Bruce had the MEB, and was scurrying as fast as he could towards the top of the mound of construction materials sitting there. It probably wasn’t the safest thing to do, but it was better than getting your face ripped off by a Chitauri or letting the Hulk loose on a poor, unsuspecting New York. 

 

They  _ did  _ have a plan, honestly, but it didn’t count on them getting shot at quite so much. 

 

“Clint!”

Bruce yelled, trying to detach an alien from his leg and obviously feeling himself go a little green. Clint shot, laser-accurately, dropping the Chitauri and leaving Bruce free to climb higher. 

 

Steve glanced around at his teammates, watching the looks of determination on their faces. 

“I’m going to cover him!”

He yelled. Natasha nodded, handing him another roundish sheet of metal that would work pretty effectively as a shield.

 

“You’re going to do  _ what _ ?”

Bucky yelled, but Steve rolled away and towards the mound. 

 

He rolled his eyes and prepared to leap after him when Clint dropped something down to him. 

 

“Slingshot!”

He grinned, and Bucky nodded once before leaping after his idiot friend, keeping the slingshot tightly clenched in his hand. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the last chapter! Thanks for reading along and reviewing!

Steve had to put a little more effort into his hits with the makeshift shield, but his team was doing pretty good covering him and Bruce still had to get to the highest point so they could reset the MEB. 

 

He could feel Bucky following him and his already messed up lungs beginning to strain, but kept going, scrambling up to a stable point on the pile so he could bat Chitauri away from Banner.

 

He tossed pieces of debris, ducking the rocks Bucky shot with pinpoint accuracy at the aliens, making their armor spark and screech unpleasantly. 

 

Bruce pulled himself over a particularly tricky piece of debris, dust raining down, and finally struggled up to the very top. 

 

"Bruce, you have to do it now!"

Steve said.

 

The scientist stared down at him with wide eyes. 

"That's an order!"

He barked out, then whacked a Chitauri away and turned to Bucky. 

 

Steve moved his mouth to say something, then shrugged and went in for an extremely tight hug, burying his face in his friend’s shoulder.

 

Bruce made a victorious sound from up above, and there was a brilliant, purple flash of light.  

 

When it faded, every last one of the time travellers were gone, as were the aliens. All that remained was Steve, still in Bucky’s arms. He blinked dazedly up at his friend. 

 

“Buck? What happened?”

 

Bucky looked around at the pile of rubble, and the slingshot in his hand, and the slightly purple tinge to the air left over from the MEB. 

 

“Honestly, pal, I have no idea.”

* * *

Steve coughed, waving the smoke out of his face. When it cleared, he saw they were back in the lab, all sprawled basically next to each other or on top of each other. 

 

A couple of shocked scientists stared back at them, their mouths agape. Steve noticed with no small measure of relief that he was back to regular size again, and the Chitauri hadn’t been transported with them. They must have been sent to their own dimension, a problem for another day.

 

Tony coughed from the floor, then sneezed. 

 

“You can all go.”

He dismissed, waving a hand. 

 

The scientists stared, then scurried away as the hand began to flap more insistently.

 

Clint groaned, disentangling himself from Natasha’s legs and Bruce’s torso. 

“Who wants to visit some dinosaurs?”

He asked, grinning.


End file.
